


the silence

by rainbowrabblerouser



Category: True Detective
Genre: Established Relationship, Existentialism, Holding Hands, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:55:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23791162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowrabblerouser/pseuds/rainbowrabblerouser
Summary: Rust talks a lot and Marty wants him to shut up and do something else with his mouth.
Relationships: Rustin "Rust" Cohle/Martin "Marty" Hart
Kudos: 22





	the silence

**Author's Note:**

> "The Silence" - Bastille

“I reckon there’s a sign here. Probably an indicator. Of fate. Or misery.”

Marty can’t take it anymore.

“Rust, you keep saying weird shit. I don’t know what to say.”

“Try listening.”

“Fine. But if you start crying on me, don’t expect me to comfort you.”

Rust takes a deep breath as he stares out into the horizon.

The sun is disappearing fast. Pink clouds float above them.

He doesn’t think this is real.

It shouldn’t be.

“We don’t have a choice in life. It’s like we are born and put onto this bitch on an earth. Then, we choose who we like and stick with them.  **Until we die.** ”

Marty rolled his eyes. This again.

“Would it hurt for you to have some sorta positivity in your tone?”

“Yes.”

“‘F course.”

They sit there in silence for a bit.

As the headlights lit up and the winding road ran on.

Like this was normal.

“Everything is the same. We will all be inevitable. And our lives run on an infinite loop. Like a record player that doesn’t need the disc to flip. Nothing new. Ever.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Have you ever...experimented...ever?”

Marty shoots him a look.

What was he on now?

“I don’t get what you mean.”

“Stop the car when we reach a rest stop.”

He does.

They needed gas anyways.

And Rust was craving ice cream.

He gets rainbow sprinkles and Marty gives him a laugh.

“I’m not done.”

Is what Marty hears Rust say when he gets into the motel bed.

They have to share.

Because the damn place is full.

Neither of them seem to care.

What was going to happen?

Marty feels his left hand. Bare. He hadn’t worn a ring in ages.

Maggie didn’t want him back. And the girls? 

They refused to see him.

Rust was all he had.

How’d he end up here?

“Not done with what, Rust? Your waxing poetic about fuck all?”

“Precisely.”

He feels him shift closer to him.

Marty pulls the blanket up over the both of them.

Rust gets close and says, “When was the last time you–?”

“A few years.”

Marty senses the judgement. He can feel Rust’s stare.

“Oh.”

“Oh, what? I went through a divorce, Rust. What do you think?”

“I think it’s sad.”

“You’re sad.”

“Sure,” Rust gets closer and just stares at the ceiling.

“How about you?”   
  


“Probably the same.”

They lie there in silence.

Comfortable silence.

“What? Is this your way of prepositionin’ me?”

“No. I wouldn’t. Not in some rank motel.”

More silence.

“You never thought about it? Ever.” 

“I mean, I wouldn’t say no. You’re always in my space.”

Some more silence.

“Fuck it, why not?”

Then, he closes the space between them in an instant.

  
  


The following morning, he gets coffee for Rust.

Some fancy Starbucks shit in the building over.

“You sure know how to treat a man.”

“Shut up.”

“You reckon we do this again?”

“Long as you shut the hell up about philosophy.”

  
  


“Do you think we dream when we sleep because we’re afraid of the darkness?”

“God, please spare me.”

“Just thinkin’ about the real things.”

“Think less.”

Silence.

“Well, one of us has to think more than the other.”

“Oh, great.”

Rust continues to look out into the distance.

When they’re driving, Rust starts making it a habit to take his hand.

Marty squeezes it and looks on.

He could stand to hear philosophical bullshit from his existential lover if it meant he stayed.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: @rainbowrabblerouser


End file.
